


and although all was burning, you're the only light

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: 31 Days of Jonsa [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jon and Sansa are cousins, Rage Kitten Jon, but I haven't read it or seen the movie, really minor Sansa/Harry at the beginning setting off the story, sort of inspired by If I Stay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: The Stark family couldn't possibly have been dealt a worse hand by fate over the last couple of years. After the death of both their parents and their eldest brother Robb, the Stark siblings have been trying to get their life back on track with the help of their cousin Jon.When Sansa gets badly injured in an accident, Jon realizes what a fool he's been for never telling her how he felt during all these years.Does Sansa still have enough strength left in her to go on after everything she's been through? Or will Jon never have a chance to tell her he loves her?Written for Day 10 of 31 Days of Jonsa - AccidentTitle from Florence + The Machine's 'Only if for a night'





	and although all was burning, you're the only light

**Author's Note:**

> Seven hells, this one was so difficult to write!
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it :)

_\- Jon, are you home?_

_\- Hey, San, what's up? Yeah, just finishing my article._

_\- Can I come over?_

_\- What happened?_

_\- I just caught Harry with Myranda from accounting..._

_\- Asshole! You want me to come and get you?_

_\- No, already on my way._

The news came as no surprise to Jon. Harry had always struck him as the philandering type. He'd never shown Sansa the respect she deserved and saw no harm in flirting with other women.

Sansa was aware she was settling, there was no real love lost between her and Harry. Over the last couple of weeks, she'd mentioned wanting to break up with him several times, but Jon wasn't expecting her to actually do it.

Perhaps it was for the best that Harry's actions were forcing her hand now.  _No, it's not,_ a voice inside his head whispered. Of course it wasn't. She'd already been hurt so many times, and now that prick was crushing her heart yet again.

His hands tightened on the edge of the table, knuckles straining white. He pushed his chair away, sending his notes flying off the table. He started pacing, feeling the desperate need to punch something.

Half an hour had quickly passed and he started wondering why Sansa hadn't arrived yet. His phone started ringing and her name appeared on his screen. 

"Sansa, where are you?"

"Mr. Snow?" an unfamiliar male voice asked at the other end of the line. 

"Yes?"

"You are listed as Miss Sansa Stark's ICE contact. She's been involved in a car accident. We're taking her to Cerwyn Memorial as we speak."

Suddenly Jon felt as if someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over his head. The room around him blurred and the voice in his ear seemed to fade away to a distant murmur.

He muttered a quick "thank you" and ended the call.

***

When Jon entered the ICU where Sansa was brought after her surgery, all his fears were replaced by boiling rage when he spotted the tall sandy-haired man arguing with the nurse at the front desk. Harry Hardyng turned around and flashed him a quick dimpled grin when he saw him.

"I'm glad you're here, mate. They won't let me see her!"

Something inside him snapped and his vision went red. He grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt and dragged him away from the front desk and back to the door. He struggled, but his burly arms were no match for Jon's fury. 

"Don't 'mate' me, you fucking shit," he spat out. "You need to leave right now!"

Harry's eyes widened and his ridiculous dimples faded as his mouth fell open. "Hey, chill out! What the hell?" 

"Leave, and don't come back," he growled. "If I ever see you around Sansa again, I'm going to _make_ you leave, and it won't be pretty,  _mate."_

***

At first he was only allowed inside Sansa's room for a couple of minutes. Seeing her lying so still and hooked up to machines and IVs made panic race through his veins. They'd told him she was stable, but there was no telling yet when she'd wake up.

He wanted to touch her, make sure she was really there, but she looked so fragile. He settled for brushing her hair back from her forehead and running his knuckles over her cheekbone.

For a while he just stood there, staring at her, as if waiting for her to wake up, until they asked him to leave the room.

***

He called Sansa's great-uncle Brynden first, to let him know what happened. He'd talk to the boys. This wasn't something they should hear over the phone.

Jon knew he needed to tell Arya, but he ended the call several times before she could pick up, losing his nerve, until he realized her discovering she had half a dozen missed calls wasn't going to do any good.

She fumed and cursed. He could only imagine her pain and fear. He'd lost his Uncle Ned to a heart attack. That monster Damon had taken his best friend from him. But he hadn't lost his father, his big brother, and his mother.

"Is she...?" She couldn't finish the question. Aunt Cat had lived for a couple of days after her car had crashed. The doctors had thought she was going to make it. 

"She's stable, but they don't really know anything for certain yet."

There was no reaction.

"Arya, it won't be like..." It was a promise he couldn't make, but he had to say it anyway.

"I have to make some arrangements and book a flight," she said, her voice too level. "Tell her I'm coming."

"I will," he promised.

***

He was standing by her bed again, looking for signs of change. He couldn't see any. If he pretended all the needles and tubes weren't there, she might as well be sleeping.

As promised, he told her Arya was coming. "And with a little luck, she'll be here in time to see you wake up," he whispered, taking her free hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

It couldn't end like this for her. She still had an entire life ahead of her. She deserved so much more than all the misery life had given her so far. 

 _Oh Sansa,_ he thought. _Sweet, strong, beautiful, brave Sansa._

If she died now, it would be his fault. He should have insisted to pick her up. He shouldn't have let her drive right after finding out about Harry.

Arya and Bran and Rickon couldn't lose their sister, not after everything they'd been through.

He couldn't lose her.  _Not now,_ his twisted, selfish mind added. He was in love with her, and if she died now, he'd never be able to tell her. 

 

* * *

 

Sansa remembered waking up, every part of her body objecting against the slightest movement, but she couldn't recall getting out of bed. Yet somehow she found herself in the glaringly white hallways of a hospital.

There had been an accident. She remembered a scream, a crash and a sharp pull inside her belly, just before her chest had been crushed.Tears had been clouding her vision, that's why she had only seen the truck cross the intersection when it was too late to hit the brakes.

She stumbled on, covering her eyes against the painfully white light. People bumped into her, not seeing her. A man turned around and smiled at her. 

She gasped. "Daddy?" she choked out.

He smiled and opened his arms. She ran right into them and he embraced her tightly, lifting her feet off the ground for a couple of seconds.

"Daddy," she whispered. "Am I dead?"

"Not yet, sweetheart," he told her. "Come."

She took his hand and suddenly their surroundings shifted, and she and her dad were standing in their old backyard.

Kneeling by the swingset was a younger version of Ned Stark, his arm wrapped around a girl of about the age of six, who was sobbing. Judging by her auburn pigtails,  the girl must be Sansa herself.

Neither of them seemed to have noticed the pair of them appear. She supposed they couldn't see her either, just like the people in the present.

As she approached, she could see a large scrape on the younger Sansa's knee. Ned was rubbing her back and making shushing sounds. 

"It's alright, sweetheart," he murmured. "Daddy will always be here to catch you. I'll always be there to pick you up, when you fall."

The edges of her vision blurred and the green of the garden morphed into pink and lilac, the pastels of her old bedroom. Fifteen-year old Sansa was sitting cross-legged on the bed, sniffling, her eyes red and puffy.

There was a knock on the door and a slightly older version of Ned Stark than the one she'd seen before entered the room, sitting down next to her on the bed.

Several minutes passed in silence, before Ned said: "Your mother told me what happened."

The Sansa on the bed sobbed loudly and slumped against her father's side, who draped an arm over her shoulders. "I don't understand, Daddy," she whispered hoarsely. "Joff made me believe I was special, but I'm just a stupid little girl."

"No," Ned insisted, and Sansa clung to her father's arm as she watched the scene before her unfold. "You're not stupid, and you  _are_ special, the most special girl in the entire world."

"But then why would Joffrey do this to me?" she wailed.

"That's on Joffrey, sweetheart, not on you. You made a mistake, is all. We all do that from time to time."

"Maybe I'm just not made to be loved," she pouted.

"Don't say that," Ned insisted, and Sansa could see the anger in the line of his mouth and the set of his jaw. "When you're old enough, you'll find someone who's worthy of you, someone who's brave and gentle and strong."

"But I wanted Joff, Daddy!"

The room dissolved and they were back in the hospital, in a waiting room.

"I don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "Why...?"

"To remind you of my promises," he answered simply.

A lump rose in her throat. "You said you'd always be there for me. But you're not!" she screeched.

He offered her a sad smile. "That's the way of the world, child. Parents are supposed to go first."

"But it was too soon!" Her voice was barely more than an angry whisper.

"It was," he admitted. "But you're not a child anymore. When you fall, you're the one who has to pick yourself off the ground, Sansa. You've got people who love you, but in the end it's up to you."

"I don't have anyone," she objected. "Not really."

"Have you forgotten my other promise?"

She tilted her chin, blinking slowly.

"You'll see," he promised. "I'll always be there for you," he added, placing a hand over his heart. "In here."

"I still don't understand," she whispered.

"You will. Goodbye, Sansa" he said, turning around, fading in front of her eyes.

"Daddy, wait! Daddy!" she screamed, trying to run after his dissolving form. She crashed into a man's solid back and the breath was knocked out of her.

The man turned around, steadying her, and offered her a wide grin. "Careful, little sis," Robb said.

She felt her eyes grow wide.

For the second time tonight she found herself in the embrace of a dead family member. She'd decided to stop questioning what was happening to her, and just try to welcome it.

"Robb,' she sobbed. "Is that really you?"

He chuckled. "I think so."

"Are you here to show me things, like Dad? Will I- will I see Mum?"

He pursed his lips. "Mum isn't ready to help you yet. She hasn't moved on."

She blinked, not understanding. "Is she alright?"

"Dying is difficult, especially when you left behind so much to live for. But she's going to be okay."

She wondered briefly whether he was also talking about himself.

"But I do have some things to show you. Are you ready?" he asked, holding out his hand.

She placed her hand in his palm and seconds later she was looking at her seventeen-year old self. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, sniffling and wiping at her eyes as she picked at a lemon cake on the plate in front of her.

Sat next to her was Jon, his hair at an awkward length and heavy-rimmed glasses balanced on his nose, his hand gently rubbing her back.

"I'm happy for Loras, I really am," she said. "I'm glad he was brave enough to stop pretending and finally stand up to his family, but... but-" Her voice dissolved into a sob. 

Jon rubbed harder, pursing his lips.

"I've been looking forward to this dance for years, and now I don't even have a date!"

Sansa flinched at her old self's whiny voice and Robb choked on a snigger.

"I could take you, if you want," Jon offered.

Slowly, she looked up at him. "You would?"

She still remembered. She'd thought Jon's offer was sweet, and there was no way she was going to the dance by herself. But still she'd worried what Margaery would say, she'd feared Joffrey might mock her for not finding a better date than her cousin.

"All I cared about was that stupid dance," she whispered, hands covering her eyes. "And only two weeks later, Daddy..." 

Robb wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "You were seventeen. You're supposed to care about stupid things at that age. 

When she removed her hands, they were no longer in her parents' kitchen. Instead she witnessed a Robb identical to the one next to her storming out of Sansa's first studio flat, face contorted in murderous rage.

Jon followed on his heels, a similar look on his face.

"Wait!" A panicked voice came from inside the flat.

Jon hesitated. Long pale fingers wrapped around his biceps and Sansa sucked in a sharp breath as she saw her own battered face appear in the doorway.

Jon clenched his jaw as he turned to face her.

"Please, Jon," she begged him. "Please don't let him go after Ramsay!"

Jon's nostrils flared and he took a deep breath. "Alright," he said. "I won't let him go after Ramsay. Alone."

Sansa could only stare in horror as the memories came over her.

Their surroundings shifted again and they found themselves standing next to a car she recognized as Jon's old truck. She saw herself sitting in the passenger seat. Her eyes flitted around, looking for Jon, falling on the driveway across the street.

She didn't remember crossing the street, but suddenly she was jogging down the driveway to Uncle Petyr's house. At the end of the path, the two men were facing each other. Jon's stance was tense, but Uncle Petyr had a sly smile on his face.

"You really shouldn't have bothered," he told Jon. "She should have stayed with me. I have the resources and the space to take care of her. What can you offer her?"

Jon huffed. "She needs to be with her family."

"I  _am_ family," Petyr exclaimed, his indignation almost believable.

Jon's lip twitched. Sansa blinked, and Jon's hand was around Uncle Petyr's neck, pushing him up against the wall. Shocked, she grabbed Robb's arm.

"If you ever touch her again, I will kill you myself!" Jon threatened.

The edges of her vision blurred and they were back in the hospital again. "It was all my fault," she whispered hoarsely. "You, and Mum..."

"No, Sansa." Robb's hand curled around her shoulder.

"What's happening to me, Robb?" she asked, desperately shaking her head. "Am I dying? Is this supposed to help me move on?"

"No," he answered. "It's up to you. It's not too late, you can go back and live, if you want."

"There's nothing to go back to. Arya's got her own life. Bran and Rickon have Uncle Brynden..."

"You have friends," he offered. "And Jon."

"I'm ruining his life, Robb," she huffed. "He hasn't had a real girlfriend in years. That's my fault. No woman is going to put up with a man who needs to save his pathetic cousin all the time. He's better off without me."

"Sansa," Robb sighed. "I think you haven't been paying attention..."

"But I have!" she objected. "I just told you!"

He chuckled. "I think you missed the point."

She threw her hands in the air in an exasperated motion, glaring at him. "Then tell me!"

He shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "It doesn't work that way. My time's up, Sansa."

"What? No!"

"Goodbye, sis."

Robb faded away and she was alone again in the hospital corridor. She decided she should try to get back to her room. As she turned a corner, a little girl with dark curls looked up at her. Sansa noticed she was holding a rag doll with orange hair. 

"There you are," she said, staring at her with large blue eyes.

Her lips parted in surprise. "Can- You can see me?"

"Of course I can see you." Her tone reminded Sansa of someone. "My name is Alysanne," the girl told her. "But you can call me Aly."

"Hi, Aly!" she greeted her enthusiastically. "I don't know you," she muttered. "Are- are you dead, too?"

The girl looked at her, cocking her head. "No," she snorted. "I haven't been born yet."

"You're from the future?"

She blinked slowly and bit her lip, as if debating something. "Only if you stay," she said eventually.

"What does that mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"I'll show you," Aly said, holding out her hand, and Sansa took it. The hospital disappeared again and she found herself in a bright and cosy living room. She didn't recognize the house this time.

In the middle of the floor another version of Aly was building a lego castle. Sansa heard a key turn in a lock and a door opening and closing. The door to her right flew open and Aly jerked her head up, eyes widening with joy, and she cried out: "Daddy!"

Sansa watched, still holding the hand of the Aly who was standing next to her, as the other one leapt into the arms of the man who'd entered the room. She saw that they had the same dark curls as he twirled his daughter around, settling her on his arm.

Sansa's mouth fell open in shock as she recognized Jon. "How's my favourite girl doing today?" he asked, lightly tickling her tummy.

She answered him with a wide grin and he rubbed their noses together. "Where's your mum?" he asked.

Sansa felt her heart melt at the sight before her. Aly twisted around on Jon's arm, looking at the door at the opposite side of the room.

She saw her own expression mirrored on the face of the woman leaning against the doorframe, her own face.

Before she had the time to ask any of the thousands of questions that had entered her mind, the room dissolved and they were back in the hospital.

Aly released her hand and picked up her doll, using her fingers to brush her stringy hair back. Sansa stood staring at her for a while, overwhelmed by what she'd just seen, but still... "I want to see more," she said.

"You can't," Aly answered without looking up. 

"Why not?"

"Because it's the future," she shrugged.

She stepped back and ran a hand over her face. Was this her future? Having a kid with her cousin Jon? It was something she'd never considered. Jon was kind and sweet, and he'd always been there for her and her siblings, but she thought he saw her as a little sister, nothing more.

 _Brave, gentle and strong,_ her father's voice echoed inside her mind. Jon was all of those things, but she couldn't wrap her head around it. Not yet.

She pushed her hair back from her face and looked back at Aly. She could see it now. Jon's curls, her eyes, his long face, but her nose and cheekbones. But what if all of this was just a dream? Why would she dream up such a thing?

She closed her eyes, conjuring up Jon's face, and tried to imagine it. It was easier than she would have thought, she realized in shock. Had part of her already wanted this?

There was just one setback: she was absolutely certain Jon didn't feel anything for her beyond brotherly love.

"There's one more thing I can show you," Aly piped up. 

Sansa offered her hand and her  _daughter_ took it. To her surprise she just started leading her down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Your room."

Her heart skipped a beat when she entered and saw Jon already sitting by her bedside. Watching herself lie so still, tubes and needles attached to her face and arms, was the weirdest thing she'd ever experienced.

Jon was holding her hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it. She sat down on the bed, looking at his distressed face. She wished she could reach out and wipe the creases from his forehead.

"Please, wake up, Sansa," he whispered. He lifted her hand to his mouth in both of his, gently encasing it, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"I'm an idiot," he sighed. "I should have told you this a long time ago, and now it looks like I might not-" his voice wavered "like I might not even get a chance."

He took a deep breath, licking his lips as he looked up, blinking to force the tears back. 

"So I'm just going to say it now," he continued, his voice thick. "Hoping, that by some miracle, you can hear me and-" he swallowed.

 _I'm right here, Jon,_ she wanted to scream,  _I can hear you!_

"I love you, Sansa," he whispered. "I know you think of me as your big brother, even if I'm a poor replacement for Robb, but that's how I feel about you. I've been in love with you for years."

She clasped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in shock.

"And all those years I stood by, watching you with all those assholes, knowing I could treat you so much better. I'm sorry, but we  _are_ cousins, and I was afraid that you wouldn't be able to look me in the eye anymore if I told you how I felt, that you'd shut me out, and I'd lose you completely. It's a sad excuse, but it's the truth."

He was no longer able to hold back his tears. "I swear to you, Sansa. As soon as you wake up, I'm going to tell you! Well, if the doctors say you're okay. I know this might be a shock to you, so I'll be careful. Just, please, wake up, San. I won't be able to forgive myself if you don't.

"And I'll regret not telling you for the rest of my days. Your brothers and sister need you, Sansa. I need you. Please, wake up."

Tears were streaming down Sansa's face as she watched him, hating that she was unable to comfort him.

"Now you know," Aly said cheerfully. "It's time."

 

* * *

 

"Jon?" the whisper was weak and came to him through thick layers of sleep. "Jon?"

He remembered where he was and he woke up with a gasp.

Sansa's eyelids were fluttering and she was trying to lift a weak hand.

"Don't move! I'm getting a doctor!" he exclaimed, leaping up from his uncomfortable chair.

She licked her lips and rasped: "I'm thirsty."

"I'll get you some water as well," he said, pausing a little longer to gaze into her open eyes, letting it sink in that she was really awake. 

He waited patiently at the far side of the room while the doctors ran some tests and examined her. He noticed her throwing repeated glances at him, and all the time, a voice inside his mind kept chanting:  _"She said my name."_

By the time the doctors had finished, she was so tired she'd fallen asleep again. Relief washed over him as they told him she was going to recover. Obviously, she'd have to stay here for a while, but they were optimistic about moving her to a regular room in less than two days.

As he sat by her bedside, his stomach started grumbling. He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten anything. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to run to the vending machines to get a coffee and an energy bar.

When he returned, she was awake again. A bright smile lit up her face when she saw him and his stomach twisted into knots, making him regret his decision to eat and have coffee.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Alright, darling?" he asked.

"I've been better," she admitted. "You left."

"I was hungry," he shrugged, offering her an apologetic smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets, pacing the length of her bed a couple of times, clearing his throat every time he turned.

She was looking at him with a curious look in her eyes, licking her lips as a small smile tugged them up.

He sat down, resting his arms on his knees, taking a deep breath. "Sansa," he began, taking her hand. "There's something I need to tell you."

She smiled brightly, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. She looked down at their hands, licking her lips again before she met his eyes and said: "I already know. I heard you."

He blinked, lips parting in surprise. "What?"

"It was like a dream," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "But I knew it was real."

He started shaking his head. "I don't understand."

She shrugged. "I'll explain later."

He squeezed her hand back. "Alright, love."

She tilted her head, smiling at him.

He sat there, holding her hand, grinning back at her, his heart beating in his throat. 

"Jon?" she asked. "When are you going to kiss me?"

"Right now, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning in to make good on his word. 


End file.
